


from chicago, with love

by justlikeswitchblades



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Chicago Firefighters (Blaseball Team), Gen, Implied Knight/Lovers Polyamory, Parenthood, San Francisco Lovers (Blaseball Team)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26532925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeswitchblades/pseuds/justlikeswitchblades
Summary: In San Francisco, love is love, and Knight thought they knew what encapsulated that. And then, Baby was born.
Relationships: Knight Urlacher & Baby Urlacher
Kudos: 8





	from chicago, with love

In San Francisco, love is love, and Knight thought they knew what encapsulated that. And then, Baby was born.

Knight doesn't quite remember Baby's birth date, but it was probably something like March 12th, or July 73rd. It was sudden, unexpected; it may have even occurred during a game between the Lovers and the Firefighters themselves. That would help explain why Baby is From Chicago, after all. Knight knows that they are loved, by Theo and their teammates. They have a home at the Polyhedron. But Knight has felt a tug at their heart whenever they see Baby, a new kind of love for them to discover and define.

It manifests when Baby slowly crawls up to the plate, his larger arms helping propel him up from his cushioned seat in the dugout for the first time, palms and knees turning a ruddy brown, the want to wipe the dirt and grass stains from Baby’s jersey onto their own, even if Baby seems to be managing just fine. It’s the little spark of pride they feel whenever Baby makes a successful hit, or scores, even if he’s on the opposing team. It’s the way they hold their breath when Baby strikes out, grateful that the Umpires continue to permit his wobbling lip and a few stray tears, finding themself an understanding shoulder to lean on, or an arm to gently encircle their waist, to keep them from running out onto the field and cradling Baby in their arms. Baby sits between second and third base with a near perpetual smile, giggling, clapping his hands together delightedly at an out, or a bird, or at nothing at all. 

Fraternizing between teams isn’t necessarily discouraged by the league, though it is hard to find time for a visit, save for a day trip once every few Slabbaths. When Knight is around and able to hold Baby off the field, to bounce him on their knee and pinch his cheeks, Baby seems to smile a little wider, and laugh a little louder. He can’t form the words, but he seems to understand how much Knight loves him. A love that's brighter than the Golden Gate Bridge, softer than the Tenderloin, as tall as the Searing Tower, as far as Lake Michigan flows into the Mississippi, and more.

They've heard from the Firefighters who help take care of Baby that he has become part of a self-care campaign, his ever-changing face on billboards in and surrounding Chicago, proclaiming that being bald, or losing your hair, no matter your age or gender, is beautiful. Of course their son is the perfect model, his scalp scarcely dusted with hair. But as his parent, they're still proud. 

It does make them wonder if they'll ever see Baby's hair grow in thicker, if Baby will ever toddle up to the plate on his chubby legs, if Baby will one day stop babbling while sitting at shortstop, and instead make conversation with his teammates the way York Silk does. They've overheard curious kinds of chatter when the Lovers venture out among those who don't play splorts in the off-season. Things like _I don't want to grow up_ and _My kids are growing up so fast._

The days do go by fast; Knight can attest to that. But right now, they think Baby is growing up just fine, even if Baby never grows up at all.

**Author's Note:**

> if you understand the billboard reference, you Are From Chicago


End file.
